Don't Walk Away
by Emmithar
Summary: Compromising situations leave both Greg and Sara lost and confuse as they try and sort out everything that’s happened.
1. Chapter 1

**Don't Walk Away**

**By:** Emmithar

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer: **I still don't own anything...

**Summary:** Compromising situations leave both Greg and Sara lost and confuse as they try and sort out everything that's happened.

**A/N: **Another new story, when I still have a lot of others going on. What am I thinking? Well, this idea came up, and it wouldn't go away, so I've started it. It's a bit different than what I normally write, not as much angst.

* * *

**Chapter One: The Beginning of Troubles**

It was either late at night, or early in the morning; she couldn't tell for sure. Her hands gripped the wheel as she drove along, willing them to stop shaking. She was afraid, but wasn't sure why. In her head a mental note told her that the next turn would be left, and that she was almost there. Wherever there was, she hadn't a clue where she was going.

It was unclear to her on how long she had been fighting this haze, a foggy anonymity that had settled about her. There were warning bells going off in the back of her head, telling her that she shouldn't be driving, it wasn't safe. But she couldn't hear them, and even if she could, she probably wouldn't have listened.

Pulling to a stop in an unoccupied spot, the car was turned off, and slowly the person stepped out. She made her way to the stairs, climbing without hesitation, knowing it was the third door from the left. Two flights up, three doors in…he would be in at this time, he should have been home hours ago. Maybe he would be asleep.

Coming to a stop in front of the door she considered this, and to a point, nearly turned around. Until he laughed. He was awake. It would make her feel less guilty if she didn't have to wake him up. Gingerly she knocked on the door, and added a few sharper raps in case he hadn't heard the first round.

Her gut feeling told her it was a bad idea as soon as he opened the door. He had been laughing, had been smiling, but when he saw her, all of that disappeared. Maybe she should just go, pretend that she was never here…

"Sara?"

Sara…yes, that was her name. Sara. She gave him an awkward smile, muttering something as she glanced down. She felt like crying all of the sudden, the fear of not knowing anything was starting to eat her away. His hand on her shoulder was warm, guiding her in gently. Sara followed, even if she didn't know this man, he certainly knew her, and she felt safe with him. That's all that mattered now, safety.

There was someone else in his apartment, another woman. Another young woman, like herself. When she stood she was nearly as tall as the man, her short blonde hair stopping sharply below her ears, her eyes were a liquid green. There was a gallon of makeup on her face, dark-blue shaded eyes, thin red lips, a heavy blush. Eyelashes long enough to suggest that they weren't real…and further down her breasts…they couldn't have been real either.

The tank-top, the shorts, the sunglasses on top of her head all suggested she had been out earlier in the day, when it was warmer. Flip flops on her feet, showing her freshly painted toes, a small handbag in her arms. Sara looked back at the man as he sat her down on the bed, he was talking, but Sara was finding it hard to concentrate.

"Greg? I think I'm going to just head out now…" the other woman said.

The man looked up at her and nodded. Sara found herself smiling a little. That was his name…know she felt a bit better. Once the woman was gone Greg turned back to her, watching her closely.

"Sara…what happened to you?"

"I don't know…"

It was the first time she had spoken, and Sara let out a frightened sigh. What did happen? She couldn't remember…well, at this point she couldn't remember very much at all. She didn't even know why she had come here.

"I'm going to get something so we can clean you up, you stay here, okay?"

Sara nodded, obeying like an obedient child, her fingers playing with the comforter underneath her. The walls were colorful around her, posters of music groups, names, all sorts of odd pictures spread across the room. The lamp near the head of the bed was the only light…until he flipped the switch near the bathroom.

Greg sat back down in front of her, jostling the bed some as he put the first aid kit down next to them. He had a towel in his hand, and he pressed it slowly against her lip, gently dabbing the cut that was there. Whimpering she turned away, sucking on her lower lip in vague attempt to rid of the pain. He muttered a few apologies, pressing the cloth back against it once he turned her face to the front again.

"Talk to me Sara."

Each time he said her name it made her feel wonderful. It was indescribable feeling, a warmth that spread throughout her body, a slight tingle. And looking at him she could tell why. A gentle face, caring eyes…luscious lips.

They were kissing; she had wanted to taste him and had moved without reasoning. For a moment he was stunned, but she felt his lips part, and the kiss deepened. Then all of the sudden he pulled back, shaking his head.

"What's wrong with you Sara?"

It was almost a plead, and she felt idiotic. She would have figured that he would have liked it, but more so she needed to be loved, wanted to feel affection. He was talking again, but she wasn't listening, not until he grabbed her shoulder.

"Sara…tell me what happened?"

"I can't…"

* * *

Sara let out a groan as the pounding in her head became even worse. You would think that it would only reach a certain level before one's head exploded, but apparently she was wrong. She reached up with a hand, massaging it tenderly as she tried to sit up. 

"Take it easy," she felt a hand pushing back down.

"Greg?"

She opened her eyes to see him smiling, and his hand moved down to wrap around her own fingers. Relaxing back into the pillows she returned his comforting squeeze, letting out a sigh.

"How are you feeling?"

Sara laughed bitterly, "Like I've been ran over…what happened?"

He didn't seem happy with that answer, a grim expression crossing his face as he titled his head. "What do you remember?"

She struggled to think for a moment, before shaking her head. "I don't know…but I can tell what I do know, my head's killing me."

"The doctors say you have a concussion, it'll hurt for a bit. Just try and remember for me, tell me what you know."

"The doctors? Where am I?"

"You're at the hospital, remember?" Greg tried to jolt her memory, "I told you that I was going to take you here, and you said that was a good idea."

"I don't, actually," Sara let out a pained sigh, holding a hand against her face. This was starting to scare her now. Her mind was a jumbled mess, somehow running faster than she could keep up with. "I remember a lot of things…but they don't make any sense."

"Then tell me what does, the last thing you honestly remember doing."

"Shift assignments," she muttered quietly, "Catherine and I finished that arson case, and I left to go home…"

"That was Thursday," Greg nodded, encouraging her.

"What day is it today?"

"Sunday."

"I've been in here for three days?" Sara cried, alarmed now.

Greg was quick in calming her down, angry at himself for not seeing the possible situation earlier. "No, you've only been in here about two hours now. But when you turned in the case assignment, that was on Thursday, before we got off shift. You and Nick got a new case Friday, and you guys found a lead last night. It's in the morning now. You got to my place about two in the morning, and I took you here about fifteen minutes later. It's almost four-thirty now. You scared me for quite a while there."

"You're scared?" Sara questioned, nearly snapping at him. "Imagine how I feel…I can't remember anything that's happened to me in the last three days…" she drew in a sharp breath, looking at him. "Greg…did something happen to me?"

Greg let out a sigh, hoping that she wouldn't have asked this until later. "The doctors took a rape kit, and documented your wounds. They don't think anything's happened, but I'm going to have it ran just in case."

"At the lab?" she shook her head, growing embarrassed now. "You can't…no one can know about this…"

"They're going to know anyways Sara," Greg held her trembling hand between his, lowering his voice. "I'm going to have to tell Grissom, and Mia will know when she runs the samples. And the others are just going to worry when they find out you're in the hospital."

She looked upset, but more exhausted than anything else. The doctors had also pulled some blood samples; Greg suspected that she had been poisoned somehow. And he would be certain to find out. He kissed her hand lightly, laying it gently across her chest. "I need to be going, the doctors are going to kick me out pretty soon, but I'll come by later on to visit you."

"Later on?" Sara shook her head, "No wait, I'm not staying here…"

"The doctors want to keep you until at least tomorrow, just to monitor you. You weren't communicating with anyone earlier…it's just a precaution."

"But I feel fine," she protested, trying to sit up.

"I thought your head was killing you," Greg threw in, hoping that using her own words would help her understand she wasn't as well as she suspected she was.

"But that's nothing…it's just a headache…"

"It's a concussion Sara," Greg warned, before standing up.

"They don't keep you in hospitals just for a concussion," Sara spat out, which made Greg smile. She was sounding more like her old self, and that was a very good sign.

"Get some rest."

He knew that she wouldn't be very happy, but he couldn't argue with the doctor's orders. Greg actually felt better knowing that she was here, still unable to shake away the uneasy feeling that had settled in the pit of his stomach. The only thing that he could be grateful of that was the fact she couldn't remember being at his place. And if she didn't remember even being there, then there was little chance that she remembered the kiss.

Greg was still furious at himself for returning the kiss, for allowing it to happen. Sara had obviously not been in the right frame of mind, and it was cruel to take advantage of her, even if she had been the one to ignite the affection. He wondered dimly what the result would be if she ever did remember…embarrassment, disgrace?

Shaking his head he climbed into his car, setting the kit the hospital gave him on the seat. It was still early, and he was getting tired, unable to fall asleep due to an unplanned visitor. Then everything with Sara, now he was too edgy to sleep. As he turned onto the main road he fished his cell phone out, hitting the speed dial button.

"Grissom its Greg, I'm on my way into the lab…" he nodded as the other man began to speak. "I know that I don't work days…yes I know last was my night off, you didn't see me in did you? I have a case that needs to be ran, it's important." Another sigh as he was interrupted once more. No wonder his cell phone bills were so high, he never was able to finish a sentence.

"Yes I know I'm not working a case right now. Sara's in the hospital…no she's going to be okay. I don't know what's happened, she having a hard time remembering as well. Yes I'll meet you when I get there."

He hung up with a sigh, shaking his head slightly. Grissom hadn't reacted to the news very well, but then again no one would. It would be harder telling the others, and Greg wondered if he should tell them, or just let word get around. It would comfort Sara knowing she had those around her that cared, but also anger her, because he hadn't listened in the first place. Still he hated hiding the truth, and he was a poor liar.

Grissom was waiting up front for him by the time Greg arrived. He had barely gotten out of the car before the older man started bombing him with questions. After his little charade was over Greg went through the painstaking task of relaying every detail to Grissom, only skipping over the part about the kiss. The last person on Earth who needed to know about that kiss was Grissom. Actually he was the second to last; Sara would most definitely be the last.

"But she's doing better now?" Grissom wondered.

"Well, let's say that she's pissed because she has to stay there for the night."

"She's doing better then," Grissom agreed.

"Who's doing better?"

Greg let out a sigh as Warrick caught up with them. Giving a nod to his supervisor he took his leave, not wanting to re-explain everything he just had. Besides, he was at his destination, now all he needed was a pad and a pen…

"Mia?"

She glanced up from her work, greeting him with a quick hi.

"Why are you here?"

"Days called in sick and I already have a lot of work from last night, so I figured I'd just stay and catch up. What do you have?"

"How come everyone from the night crew is still here?"

"Aren't we always?" Mia joked, holding her hand out for the package he held.

"Then how come I'm the only one who gets in trouble for it?"

"Because you're the rookie," she answered simply, "now give."

"Rape kit," Greg handed it over, "Just so you know its Sara."

"Sara? Is she okay?"

Her tone had changed quickly, full of worry.

"She's okay, it's not for certain, but we need it ran. There are some other swabs in there that need to be ran as well, page me when you get the results?"

Mia nodded, moving it to the top of her pile. "Next thing I do as soon as I Catherine's stuff finishes."

"She's working too?" Greg wondered, surprised now.

Mia only smiled, turning back to her work.

**TBC**


	2. Confusing Results

_Loved all the wonderful reviews I recieved, so another chapter goes up tonight. I'm not sure when the next part will be up, but hopefully it wont take too long. Although a lot of nice reviews may motivate me to write it tomorrow :D_

* * *

**Chapter Two: Confusing Results**

"You paged?" Grissom wondered, sliding the small device back into his shirt pocket as he entered the room. Mia glanced at him, judging his mood before continuing. The folder sat just off to her side in the 'finished pile', closed and hidden away from any prying eyes.

"Yeah," she nodded slightly, picking the folder up in her gloved hands. "I got the results back from Sara's kit…but you aren't going to like them."

He frowned, studying her complexion as he took the results from her. Normally she would have read them, but she didn't even attempt to do so, nor did she go back to her work. Instead she just sat there, waiting for him to read what she could not.

As he opened the file his frown deepened, reading the results one more time as both shock and confusion filled him. "Are you sure?"

"I ran it twice," Mia confirmed quietly.

Grissom studied the results a fair bit longer, before closing the folder. "Run them again…" he spoke up quickly, once seeing her start to protest. "It's not that I don't trust you, I'd just rather be sure."

Mia nodded, knowing better than to argue at this point. Rerunning it once was enough of a chore for any case, but this wasn't any case, and they weren't any particular results. There was empty, sickly feeling gnawing away at her insides as she was left alone to complete her task once again. There was a reasonable explanation to why this was happening, but it wasn't one she wanted to think of.

* * *

"Can you make it home okay?" 

She nodded dully after a moment, still staring out the window. It had been a long, restless night in the hospital, unable to sleep due to worry, and the unknown fear eating away from her. Greg had somehow convinced the hospital staff to let her leave early, and had taken her home that evening…well not home exactly, but back to his place, where her car still resided.

"Are you sure?" he asked, "I can follow you home if you want."

"No," Sara shook her head, "You've done enough for me already. You should go in and get some sleep; you look more tired than I am."

Greg smiled, shrugging it off. "You shouldn't drive if you're tired."

"You did," she pointed out.

"You should come in," he pressed.

Sara laughed, shaking her head. "I don't know Greg…"

"Just for a little while," he pleaded. "I just want to make sure you really are okay."

She let out a sigh, her head resting against the window. Silently she reminded herself to get used to it. Everyone would be treating her as though she was wearing a 'fragile' sign once she did go back to work. She knew it was because they cared, and in turn they worried, and perhaps babied her more than they should without even realizing what they were doing.

Greg would the be the worse of them all; he was always the one she would expect to find waiting in the locker room after a tough case, even if it was just to ask how she was doing. He was the one who brought her a cup of coffee when she hadn't stopped long enough for a proper break, the same person that prodded and pried until he had gotten under her skin, working to find a way to make her smile, even if it were for only a brief moment.

Greg couldn't help it; it was just how he was. After all, didn't he show the same concern for everyone he cared about? Sara rubbed the back of her head with one hand, thinking over his offer. Resting for a bit longer did sound nice, she was exhausted from the events that had happened previously, and who knew for certain if she was as well as she believed she was?

"Maybe for just a minute."

He seemed satisfied with that answer, pulling the keys from the ignition. Sara pushed her own door open before Greg could even get around, spoiling any attempts of excessive courtesy. She would only allow him to go so far.

As she started to climb the stairs she felt chill run the length of her spine. She remembered doing this the night before, but that was all. Whatever happened afterwards was a mystery. As was much that had happened in the last three days. It was as though someone had preformed a memory-wipe on her, she knew a few drugs off hand that would cause that, but the tox scan had come back negative for her. As did the rape kit.

It was warm inside the apartment, heated from the day since it was left unattended. Greg was quick in turning the a/c on, but she knew it would be a little while before it even started to work. At least that's how it was with her place. The rent was affordable, along with everything else that you had to pay, but you couldn't get everything you wanted.

Sara eased herself into one of the chairs around the small dining table, big enough for four people if they really crowded. There was a cute little center piece sitting in the middle of the table, resting easily on a small pile of napkins. It was miniature statue of teddy bear, holding a clay bucket which was most likely meant for toothpicks. Paint had been plastered on it messily, dabs here and there of one color, and more everywhere else.

"My sister did that," Greg explained as he walked into the kitchen, "She gave it to me before I left California to come out here. It was so that I wouldn't forget her."

"It's cute," Sara nodded, "How old is she?"

"She'll be eleven this year," he answered, opening the fridge. "You want a soda?"

Sara shrugged, answering only when she figured out that he probably didn't see her. "What do you have?"

"Coke," he replied, "or coke."

"I think I'll have a coke then," she smiled, watching as he came back. It opened with a sharp click, fizz forming around the top from being slightly shaken. She was surprised on how refreshing it tasted, realizing only then on how thirsty she really was.

"So, how are you really feeling?" Greg wondered, taking a sip of his drink. He had taken the seat across from her, leaning back so that the chair tipped up on its back legs.

"About the same as you are," Sara shook her head; half wishing that he would fall over just to teach him a lesson. At the same time it was sort of cute.

"I meant emotionally," he corrected himself; "I know you'll be fine physically. You've already proven that."

She bit her lip, crossing her arms on the table as she turned away from him. Part of her had hoped he wouldn't ask, yet another knew that he would. "I'll be the first to admit that I'm afraid. I know that nothing bad happened," she nodded, referring to the already known test results. "But just the thought that something happened, and I can't remember any of it…I mean, someone could have done something to me, anything at all, I wouldn't remember. It could be someone I see everyday, or somebody that I don't know that even exists."

"You should consider yourself lucky," Greg nodded to her, letting his chair fall forward. "I know you were assaulted, but you weren't raped, and you weren't molested…"

"That doesn't mean they didn't try," Sara cut him off. "I was lucky, but that doesn't make me any less afraid."

"The only thing I don't understand is how. Grissom called back with the results from tox, you had nothing in your system."

"That doesn't mean it wasn't there," she concluded. "There are drugs out there that can run through your system pretty quickly. And things like trauma and shock can make someone forget as well. What if I was drugged? But then it wore off, sooner than the attacker realized, and I fought my way free…only to be so frightened by it I forgot that it even happened?"

"It's possible," Greg nodded, watching her. He didn't want to argue, he knew that it was pointless. Everything she had said could be true, though unlikely. If it was a drug that had ran through her system that quickly, than the perp had little to no idea what he was doing, making it easier for Sara to escape. And a scuffle would explain her injuries…the cut on her lip, the bruise around her eye, scrapes around her abdomen, as well as her arms and legs.

"But you don't think so," Sara challenged, eyeing him cautiously.

He let out a grim smile, "I'm just glad you're okay," he answered. "When you first showed up I didn't know what to do…I thought maybe taking you to the hospital was overreacting, but when wouldn't answer me, I didn't know what else to do."

"I'm sorry," she apologized quietly. "I don't even know why I came here…I honestly don't even remember doing it. I guess that just means I trust you enough."

"I'm glad. I wouldn't have it any other way Sara."

She blushed as she smiled, hiding her face quickly as she took another drink of the coke in her hand. Greg could be so charming in what he said sometimes, but a lot of the reason was because he was truthful. He didn't tell you what you wanted to hear, but what you needed to hear.

"I should get going," she mentioned quietly. "I'm tired, and I know you're tired. I also know that you have to be in at work in a few hours. The doctor doesn't want me working until Wednesday so I can sleep in if I want too."

"You want me to follow you?"

She shook her head. "No…I can manage on my. Thank you anyways…I mean, for everything you've done."

He nodded, standing to follow her out to the front door. "You'll call if you'll need anything, right?"

She smiled, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at him. It was beginning to start all over again, and already it was starting to grow irritating. She said her final goodbyes, knowing that he was watching as she made her way down the stairs. He stayed back at the top, leaning over the railing as he watched her pull out.

The further she went away, the more she realized that she hadn't wanted to leave.

* * *

"You look like death man." 

Greg gave him a short smile as he fell in step with the older man. "It's been a rough couple of nights."

"I told you that you had to start cutting back on drinking," Nick teased him lightly. He was busy running the case, his hands full since Sara's incident. He had already asked Greg earlier about Sara over the phone, growing concerned after stopping by the hospital to see her, only to find out the brunette had been discharged hours ago. His only regret was in waking Greg, who he knew already had limited sleep. The only plus side was now that he got to tease the younger CSI.

Greg could hardly care at this point, anxious to meet up with Grissom who had called him shortly after he ended the call with Nick. His supervisor had mentioned they got a lead off one of the swabs done by the hospital staff, but that was about it. He had stayed long enough to take a shower, before heading in.

"You've seen Grissom?"

"In his office last time I looked," Nick nodded. "He's looking for you though, so he shouldn't be too hard to find."

Greg nodded his thanks, peeling off in the other direction as they came to a T in the lab hallways. Grissom's office was just down at the end of this one. He wasn't disappointed either, his supervisor inviting him in quickly, instructing him to close the door. Greg felt a little anxious in doing so, but didn't question him. If Grissom didn't want the others to overhear the results, than that would be the case. As long as he knew, he felt better.

"What do you have?"

Grissom was studying the file in his hands, before leaning across the desk to give it to him. "This is what Mia ran; these are the results that came up. I want you to explain them to me."

Greg nodded, only to stop short as he began reading. There was a sudden sinking feeling, and it was as though all the blood left his body, leaving him with an icy chill. "This can't be right…"

"She ran it three times Greg; the evidence doesn't lie. I need an explanation."

"I don't know," Greg shook his head, flipping through the rest of the pages. There had to be a mistake, there just had to be…he didn't honestly think…he couldn't…

"Well, unless you can explain how your DNA ended up on the test kit, then you're going to be charged with assault."

"Grissom, you don't honestly think I would do something like this?" Greg asked, his voice shaking. He scanned over the document again, trying to find a mistake, praying that he would be able to prove that he was telling the truth.

"You admit that she was over at your house, the doctors know that you brought her in, and your DNA is all over the swabs. To top it all off Sara doesn't remember anything, so it's your word that we're going off of."

"That's low," Greg told him, "even for you. I would never hurt Sara, you know that."

"I know that, but the judge isn't just going to believe that. And you know what will happen when this gets out to Ecklie. You remember what Nick went through…at least he had an explanation."

Greg nodded dully, realizing for the first time the severity of the situation. One hand briefly massaged his forehead, trying to recall everything that had happened. She had shown up at his door confused, bleeding…and he had taken her in, worked on cleaning her up, then…

"We kissed," Greg mentioned quietly, unsurprised by the bewildered look his supervisor gave him. "Actually she kissed me…but it's possible to transfer saliva that way. It may explain how my DNA was found."

"It's possible," Grissom agreed, "but we're going to have to check with Sara to be certain."

"You are going to verify my story with someone who doesn't even remember what happened?"

"We're treating this like any other case Greg. At this point you're removed from any active investigations, and it would be wise for you to remain either at the lab, or somewhere we can reach you easily."

"For how long?"

"As long as it takes," he nodded to the youth. "I'll call Sara in here shortly, if she can verify your story we'll consider this issue closed. If not, I don't know what else I can do for you."

"You're going to call Sara? After she just got home from the hospital?"

"Unless you want to wait longer…" Grissom offered, to which Greg shook his head quickly. This obviously was a serious issue, better to deal with it sooner rather than later. He was dismissed, but he didn't really listen, only leaving after Grissom reminded him a second time to leave.

It felt as though someone had punched him in the pit of his stomach; he felt sick, nauseated, lost in a dream as he wandered slowly through the halls. What was happening to him? What was going on? He knew that had to be the explanation, it was the only thing that made sense, but how did he make everyone else believe him? Even worse, what would Sara think once she found out?

**TBC**


	3. Coming Clean

**Not as long as the others, but there will be more to come soon. This is more or less to tie up a bit of loose ends. There will be more of an explanation on this next chapter, so if you're still confused it should be cleared up. Hope that makes sense :D**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Three: Coming Clean**

She was trying to pay attention to what was going on, but it was hard. It had been only ten minutes since she had been here, but it felt quite like forever. Not only was she exhausted, but irritated as well.

"What time did you get there?"

"Greg said it was about two," Sara replied monotonously, pushing her hair away from her face.

"I asked you what time you got there, not what Greg told you," Catherine reminded her.

Sara looked at her skeptically, but didn't move to question the other woman. She had numerous times before, but only got the same reply. The crime lab had to compare stories. "How can I tell you what I don't know?"

Catherine pursed her lips, obviously agitated by her response. If she was so determined to make this difficult, then Sara was going to return the favor. The blonde shook her head, sighing as she jotted a few notes down on a pad of paper. This was the part Sara hated, she felt as though she were being evaluated, waiting to be deemed crazy or sane.

"Okay, let's try this one, why did you go to Greg's apartments? Did you have any reason to be there?"

"I don't know why I went there," Sara stressed her point again, groaning. "I just know that I did."

"Greg mentioned that you two sort of kissed," Catherine tried next, bringing it up cautiously.

"Kissed?" Sara blinked, "I think I would have remembered that…"

"Are you saying that you two didn't kiss then?"

"I'm saying that I don't know," Sara reminded her sternly.

"What do you know then?" Catherine snapped, rubbing her forehead. She hadn't a clue why Grissom assigned her to this case, pulling her off of another. Sara wasn't cooperating, and Catherine wasn't sure if she couldn't, or just wouldn't. Yet at the same time Catherine knew the severity of the case; after all the last time a CSI was in legal trouble, she had been the one to crack the case.

"I know her," Sara nodded towards the reception area, where a woman paced timidly, fiddling with the strap of her small handbag. Every so often she would approach the desk to talk with the receptionist, before resuming her slow pace.

At first Sara thought she had imagined her; Greg had said nothing of the mystery woman at his place the night she arrived, and honestly she had been so out of it, Sara wasn't sure if she had even existed, and she certainly was too embarrassed to ask Greg about her.

"Does she have a name?"

"I would hope so," Sara replied sarcastically, letting out a sigh as Catherine scowled. "I never learned her name. I know that she was at Greg's place when I got there."

Catherine looked up at the other woman now, frowning. "Are you sure it's her?"

Sara studied the young woman down the hall before nodding. "Yeah, I'm sure."

"Alright then…I'm going to ask her some questions, try not to go too far. We're not finished here."

"Have we even started?" Sara wondered, muttering under her breath. If Catherine had heard her she didn't let on, only walking past her and out of the closed interrogation room. It was the only place left that they could have private conversation.

Sara remained there for a moment longer before following Catherine down the hall. After all the blonde had said nothing about not overhearing the conversation, and she was dying to know who this person was. Greg hadn't mentioned anything about a girlfriend…but then again she hadn't told anyone when she first started dating Hank.

She didn't make it as far as that, coming to a stop as she reached the locker rooms, seeing the long figure inside. Sara hadn't seen him this depressed for a long time, not since shortly after the lab explosion, when he was still in the hospital. It was clear though that he was nearing an all time low, his head bowed as he stared at the ground, sitting only a few feet from his locker.

Sara cleared her throat as she stepped inside, giving him a comforting smile as he looked up. Greg gave her a short one in return, but turned away quickly after. She couldn't blame him; upon arriving at the lab she had only gotten the short-ended version of everything that was going on, and it didn't sound pleasant.

"How are you doing?"

He shrugged as she sat down, lacing his fingers together in between his knees. "Confused…a little worried. Scared maybe…" he glanced back up at her, sincerity on his face. "I don't care what the evidence says, I didn't hurt you. You have to believe that…"

"I do," she responded quietly.

"Why would I even? Think about it, have I ever…" he came to a stop, wetting his lips. "You do?"

"Of course," Sara nodded towards him. "Why wouldn't I?"

He tilted his head, smiling as he let out a sigh. It made him feel better, but it still didn't fix the problem. "Now if I could only convince the others…"

"They know it too," she interjected, waiting until he had met her gaze before continuing. "They're just doing their job Greg. A case is still a case; they're trying to explain all the evidence."

"And I've told them what happened," Greg protested.

"And if we all believed everything all our suspects said than we would be in a world of hurt. We need proof along with words, you know that."

"I suppose," he agreed quietly. "It doesn't make it any easier."

"Catherine's talking with someone now; she should be able to help you. It's the same girl that was at your place…"

Greg blinked, watching her. "Susan? You remember Susan?"

Sara shrugged, shaking her head. "I guess so…"

"I didn't even think of calling her," Greg cursed, rubbing his head. "It should have been the first thing I thought of; man I make a lousy investigator."

"If you make a lousy investigator, than I make a horrid one," Sara told him with a laugh, "I really don't remember anything…not even that kiss…"

Greg laughed hoarsely, turning away as he blushed slightly. "Yeah…about that." He took in a deep breath, trying to find the best way to explain it. "I was really hoping that you wouldn't find out about it…"

"Why?" Sara questioned, "was it that bad?"

"No," Greg shook his head quickly, "it was nice…it was very nice…but considering the circumstances, it wasn't very…appropriate…it sort of felt like I was taking advantage of you…even if you were the one to kiss me…"

"I'm sorry if it made you feel uncomfortable. I can honestly say I didn't know what I was doing," she offered up with a laugh before growing sincere. "I'm sorry I brought you into this mess, I shouldn't have gone to you."

"I'm glad you did," Greg cut her off, his fingers wrapping around her hand. "I wouldn't have it any other way Sara."

She blushed, feeling his fingers on her hand. It was the simplest gesture, and though Grissom had done the same many times, never once had she experienced an effect quite like this.

"So," Sara breathed quietly, trying to find something to draw the attention away from her. "What's with her…" she nodded towards the hallway.

"Who?" Greg wondered, still watching her.

"Susan…what's her name?"

"Oh," Greg nodded, finally pulling his hand away. "Her."

Sara let out a sigh, cradling her hands her lap now. She didn't necessarily want him to pull away, but at the same time she was afraid of where it would lead, especially with the circumstances at the particular moment.

"It's nothing really…"

"Right," Sara commented sarcastically, raising an eyebrow. "I suppose it's not unusual for girls to stop by your place in the middle of the night."

"Okay," Greg laughed, grinning. "She's an old friend from college. She here in Vegas for a convention, and knew that I lived here, so she dropped by for a visit. We used to be really good friends…"

"Used to be?" Sara wondered, "What happened?"

Greg shrugged, "We just went our separate ways. I wanted to finish college, she wanted to party. Her parents paid her entire way so school was just one big joke. I actually had to work to get there. It was a little more important to me."

"So you just stopped talking?"

"Well, it wasn't like that," Greg corrected her. "It was slow…we started to drift apart, and then one day…it was like we never met. She's changed a lot though, still as funny as I remembered her. One of the reasons I liked her."

Sara nodded, taking it all in. There were no friends from her college, no one that could stop by and surprise her with a visit. All of the sudden she felt very alone, and slightly jealous at Greg's charismatic ways. He could have anyone under his thumb in an instant if he wished. It was his ignorance that made him so cute.

The knock on the door told them they were no longer alone, and Greg nodded towards Catherine as the blonde wandered in.

"I just finished talking with Susan Tolman, she's been able to verify your story," Catherine explained quietly. "You're off the hook."

Greg nodded once again, muttering 'I told you so' under his breath before smiling warmly at Susan as she entered the doorway. Sara stood timidly; trying to make her leave in order to allow the two some time alone, but Greg held her by the arm.

"Sara, I want you to meet my friend Susan. Susan, this is Sara," he introduced the two, wanting more than anything for the pair to be friends. The last thing he wanted was some petty war between two women he truly cared about. The honest truth was that he missed Susan, more than he realized, and he felt bad for their night ending so abruptly.

"I hope you're feeling better," Susan nodded to her, giving her a small smile. Despite her loud, flashy appearance she was actually quite timid.

"I am," Sara returned a friendly smile, "thank you."

"I hope you don't mind me coming here," she started again, turning to Greg. "But I left my cell phone at your place. You weren't home when I stopped by earlier, and your neighbors told me where you worked."

"Its fine," Greg assured her. "Technically I'm break in a few minutes…why don't we go out for breakfast?" He glanced from one to the other, "All three of us?"

"I don't know," Sara's smile was grim. "I'm tired and everything…"

She was tired, but that wasn't her motive. She didn't want to intrude on the pair, they probably had a lot of catching up to do, and she had already interrupted them before.

"Come on Sara," Greg said flatly, "You can't tell me you're not hungry. You haven't eaten since you left the hospital."

"It would be fun," Susan agreed quickly, her smile brightening.

"Please," Greg was back at her side, holding her hand once more. The man obviously did not want to go without one or the other. "For me?"

Sara laughed, rolling her eyes. "Okay, just for you. But don't be getting any ideas," she warned.

"Never," Greg gasped quietly in mock resentment as he brushed by her. Sara found herself frowning, but it was one of those frowns that melted into a smile, unable to help but laugh as she followed the pair out of the room.

**TBC**


	4. Surprising Secrets

**Chapter Four: Surprising Secrets**

It was a new place for Susan, but quite familiar for Sara and Greg. The ever infamous café, down at the end of the street, was a perfect stopping point for the CSI gang. It had come to such a point that most of the waiters knew them by sight, also knowing what they enjoyed, having the meal ready half the time before it was even asked for.

Knowing this, Greg excused himself shortly after arriving, heading into a corner where he answered his ringing phone. Sara knew it was more in likely one of two people; Grissom or Ecklie. Neither was a favorable case, and she silently wished that he wouldn't get in trouble for ditching work so suddenly.

"How long have you two known each other?"

Sara turned back quickly, her attention taken from Greg. That was regrettable, since she had been trying to read his lips, his expression. If Greg was going to get back into trouble than she would do her best to get him back out of it.

"A few years now…" Sara muttered with a shrug, turning back around, frowning as she realized that Greg was no longer in her line of sight. "I mean I've known him longer, but we didn't really become close until a few years ago. More so since he's moved out into the field."

Susan nodded readily. "Yes, he's told me about that. He's told me about a lot of things he's done out here. It sounds quite exciting, finding the clues, catching the bad guys."

"It's not all fun and games," Sara assured her. "First of all you have the basics, long hours, never getting enough time to yourself. Loads of paperwork, trials and court, dealing with pain-in-the-ass officers. Then you have the cases themselves. Some are really hard to handle emotionally…"

"Greg's pretty strong," Susan intervened, "I'm sure he could handle anything."

"Don't be so quick to judge; I'm not just talking blood and gore…but when it involves children…it can get pretty personal."

"Maybe you're not just as strong as some people," Susan returned, putting her menu down. "I don't even know why Greg even likes this place…it's like an invitation for the homeless or something…"

The verbal slap was more shocking than hurtful, and Sara couldn't quite reason a comeback. Sure, she was more emotional than most, but how many times had she seen Greg hide his tears when an infant was found in the garbage? And how many more times had the pair comforted each other with looks, and touches…simple gestures that reminded them both that they were there for one another?

"And you think you would be able to handle it just fine?"

"I'm just saying," she replied with a shrug, "Death happens all the time, you have to get used to it. I worked with a funeral director for a few months. I've seen enough dead kids to last a lifetime, but I don't get teary-eyed over it, and neither would Greg."

"Then you obviously don't know Greg that well," Sara started, surprised as the woman cut her off.

"I'd like to think that I know him…after all, we did date for an entire year."

"You dated…the two of you dated?" Sara asked, trying to hide the shock behind her voice.

"Of course," Susan laughed, her folded arms resting on the table. "Surely Greg told you…"

"I guess he forgot to mention that…"

"He's cute when he does that," Susan smiled, "He was always so focused on schoolwork that he would forget our dinner dates from time to time. Then he would always find a way to make up for them."

Susan cleared her throat, singling to be quiet as Greg approached. It irritated Sara…what was she supposed to do, just forget everything she had just said? Pretend that this was just some secret to share? At first Sara had tried to be accepting, but now…she just wasn't so sure.

* * *

Grissom frowned, reading over the report. "So tell me again why you cleared Greg?"

"Interviewing Sara was more or less pointless," Catherine told him with a sigh, "The only thing I did get from her was a witness. Susan Tolman was at Greg's apartment that night. She confirmed that Sara arrived around two, and that she was already in that condition."

"Yes," Grissom nodded, "But you said that she left a few minutes later. Greg didn't check Sara into the hospital until fifteen after. That's ten minutes of unaccountable time that he could have done something."

"Are you trying to pin this on Greg?" Catherine wondered, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm trying to eliminate him," Grissom countered. "You know this is what any judge would say. The fact is his DNA came up, we need a reason why."

"He did give a justifiable reason Griss," she nodded to him, opening the folder on her lap. "They did kiss…"

"Why would Greg kiss her when she was hurt?"

"Greg stated that Sara kissed him," she interjected, "and Greg, being a natural human male, returned the kiss. I mean, if a good-looking woman walked up to you and just kissed you, what would you do?" she paused for a moment, shaking her head, "On second thought, don't answer that."

"Okay, so they kissed," he held his hands open. "How do we end up with his DNA?"

"Sara had an open wound on her lip at the time; our eye-witness remembers it distinctively. More in likely the wound picked up any saliva that had been transferred during the kiss. The hospital cleaned the wound, and sent everything along with the rape kit in to be processed."

"Why would they do that?"

"Probably because the last time we had a rape victim the hospital did not do a full documentation," Catherine explained. "We lost the case, and needless to say Warrick wasn't happy. Neither was the family, they sued the hospital for insufficient procedures. They were trying to cover their asses."

Grissom nodded, motioning for her to continue.

"Mia processed everything Greg gave her, just like he asked her to do. She wouldn't know what was relevant to the case at that time. Everything is until proven otherwise, after all."

"Very convincing," Grissom nodded, "But even so some judges may not buy it."

"So then I'll have to find new evidence," Catherine offered up. "Warrick's processing Sara's clothes from that night; I'm going to go through her personal effects, maybe find something that will tell us where she was beforehand. We'll search her car as well, but she's been using it since, so I don't know if we'll get too much out of it."

"Sara's smart enough to leave everything as it is," Grissom reminded Catherine. "I gather I can assume you're keeping this case then."

"I enjoy finishing my work," The blonde replied, gathering her things. "Unless of course you want to pull me off this one as well?"

"You're still upset over that?" he wondered. "I needed you for this case…"

"Then I should get to work."

He frowned, watching the blonde leave. Grissom knew that pulling her off an active investigation would irritate her, but he didn't think it would last this long. Greg running the case was out of the question, and he felt that Catherine was the best person for it. From woman to woman she may be able to communicate easier with Sara. And it was no surprise she had asked Warrick for help. Nick was busy with his own work, and Grissom did not feel comfortable approaching the subject with Sara. Somehow Catherine knew that, and he was grateful.

* * *

Sara was beginning to wish that they had drove here separately now. It had been Greg's idea to drive one vehicle; they would stop at the diner, then head back to his place so Susan could pick up her phone. Then they would head back to the crime lab. Somehow though, they had become…stuck, at Greg's place.

Susan had been talking non-stop, and though it had irritated her at the start, Sara grew accustomed to it. Besides it was a plus…it gave her time to think over all that was said. She was sweet and charming from a far-away glance. Not exactly pretty, over-ridden with cosmetics and accessories. She wasn't ugly…just overdone.

What bothered her the most was the haunting comment that had been made earlier… _I've seen enough dead kids to last a lifetime, but I don't get teary-eyed over it, and neither would Greg._

It sent a chill up her spine. How could anyone see a dead kid, a dead person at all, and not feel even slightest bit of emotion? The worse cases were children obviously, ones that were brutally murdered, or neglected even, in such a way their death was almost as horrid. Then there were the teenagers, the adults…the grandparents. No one deserved to die in such ways.

Sara reasoned that perhaps it was different for Susan. Working in a funeral home certainly wasn't the same thing as a morgue, or a hospital. She didn't see their lives, didn't know how they died. She didn't see all of the blood, the mess, the horror…if you didn't see it, then how could you know?

At the same time the growing thought nagged her. Greg had told her personally that Susan wasn't anything special…but dating for an entire year? That was considered serious…at least for her. The most she had ever dated was what? A few months?

Why would Greg lie to her about such a thing? Was it because he was embarrassed? Or maybe afraid that she would find out, and turn away. Sara would never do such a thing, but sometimes people blew things out of proportion, especially with someone they cared about. Greg was her friend after all, and Sara knew of the crush he 'secretly' had on her.

Sara pushed the strands of hair in front of her face away, tucking them neatly behind her ear. Susan was still rambling, something about the time her parents had taken her to a carnival, and she had become separated somehow.

"I thought that I'd never find my way out of that fun house. I was only six, so it was really intimidating, but you would absolutely laugh at what happened next…"

Sara bit her lip, chewing on it absentmindedly. At first the woman had been quiet, shy even, but the longer she spent with her, the more she began to talk. Sara wondered vaguely if Susan even knew if she was listening or not. She voted for not, as she locked eyes with Greg, who was rubbing his forehead in a mock pain. Sara stifled a laugh, but it wasn't even heard by Susan who continued on with her long-winded story.

"Don't you have to be at the MGM in fifteen minutes?" Greg broke in suddenly.

That caught her attention, the young woman glancing at the clock hurriedly. "I almost forgot, the girls are probably already there, waiting for me…"

"I can drive you," Greg offered up, moving to stand.

"Don't be silly," Susan laughed, swinging her purse onto her shoulder. "I'll just take a cab. They can get me their quicker than you can."

Greg nodded, not about to argue as he walked her to the door. Sara remained on the couch, fighting away the headache that was threatening to come on. She wasn't sure if it was from the lack of sleep, or the constant babbling they had endured for the past hour, but she willing to bet it was a combination of both.

"Does she ever shut up?" Sara wondered as Greg came back in.

"Sometimes," he let out a sigh, "When she's in a bad mood."

"How did you ever stand her?"

"Easy," Greg laughed, "We hardly saw one another. We had classes at different times, so we only saw each other in the evenings. Then she wasn't talkative, either bummed out by classes, or too tired from partying to really say much."

Sara nodded, growing quiet. It wasn't her place to ask but the curiosity was growing. "Why didn't you tell me you two were serious?"

"We never were…" Greg raised an eyebrow, watching her. "Why would you ask something like that?"

"She told me you two dated," Sara offered up.

"We did," Greg nodded to her. "But it wasn't serious…"

"You dated for a year…that's serious."

She was surprised as Greg laughed. "We knew each other for about year…but we weren't dating that long. It was about seven months, give or take a few weeks."

"That's still serious," Sara told him.

"Sara," Greg shook his head, trying to find a way to convince her. "Do you know how many times we had sex in the seven months that we were seeing each other?"

"I would think that's personal…"

"Once."

Sara blinked. "Once? You knew her for a year…"

"Seven months," he interjected.

"Seven months…and you had sex once? Why?"

Greg laughed, grinning. "What happened to it being personal?"

Sara blushed, turning away. "I'm sorry…"

"It was a week before we broke up. Our relationship wasn't going anywhere, and Susan believed that it was because we weren't trying. So we gave it a shot, and nothing happened still. We were together during that time, but like I told you. We hardly saw one another. She wanted parties, and friends she could hang around all the time. I wanted to excel in my work. College was hard for me."

He drew in a breath, pausing for a moment. "I never really fit in, I didn't go to the parties, to the dances, I only skipped two classes in my entire life and both times I was under doctor's orders not to leave my dorm. Besides that my parents would have killed me if I ended up in the doctor's office again."

"What happened?"

"Pneumonia," Greg said with a shrug. "Started as a bad cold and I tried to shake, only to wake up one morning to realize I couldn't breathe. I spent a few days resting during a break, but once classes started up again I went. Pushed myself to hard and I came down with round two. My parents threatened to pull me out for a month. So I had to miss a few classes."

"It was really important to you, wasn't?" Sara questioned, beginning to think over her own life.

Greg nodded, "I guess that's where Susan and I didn't see eye to eye. Don't get me wrong. She was very pretty back then…not so much now, she's kind of trashed herself. She was shy, but once she got to know you she stuck fast. She made a lot of friends over the course of year, before she dropped out. I don't know where she went after that."

"You care about her," Sara commented, taking in his quiet tone.

"I guess I do, in an odd way," Greg added with a smile.

"I'm glad…" she returned his smile, being able to breathe much better now that everything had been cleared up. It was funny though, how she had been worried so much over such a small thing.

"We should get going," Sara spoke up again. "You need to get back to work, and I could do with a few hours of sleep."

"I'm off until tomorrow," Greg told her. "Catherine called me to tie up a few loose ends at the restaurant. She also let me know that both you and I are expected back in tomorrow night. No earlier."

Sara nodded, having forgotten her earlier worries over the phone call. "I still need to get my car," she pointed out.

"Why don't you stay here?"

"Are you trying to get me to stay the night?"

Greg only smiled, to which Sara scowled. Of course, that had been a stupid question on her part.

* * *

"Can you handle the case?"

Sara rolled her eyes, turning to the Texan. "Yes Nick," she stated firmly. "You can stop asking me."

"I'm just making sure," he added, flooding his voice with emotion as he tried to appear hurt.

"I know," Sara smiled, laughing as he grinned. "But you're also getting on my nerves."

Nick nodded in satisfaction, spreading the photos out on the table. This was tricky part…he hadn't told Sara that it was an assault case. But she didn't seem to really care, which was unique, considering the situation.

"How old is the victim?"

"Nineteen," Nick cut in, "Almost twenty. Birthday was next month. She was found in the garage of her step dad's house; he does have an alibi for TOD. I found trace amounts of a white flaky substance on her arms and legs, Hodges confirmed them as candle wax."

"Were there any candles in the house?"

"No," Nick shook his head, "Not that we found. The COD was blunt force trauma, one swift blow to the back of the head, another to the side of the next, postmortem. Someone else was there, but we didn't find any indications…so we can't prove that."

"Wonderful," Sara remarked dryly, picking up one of the photos in her hands. "What do you want me to do?"

"Mia should have some results ready for us, I dropped them off yesterday. I'm going to check the victim's car out, see if I can find anything interesting. Meet me back in the garage then you can help dig in."

"You're the boss," Sara mocked a salute as he left, staying behind as she gathered the rest of the photos. She knew the others were waiting for her to crack, for her to break down and admit she couldn't handle it.

Sara was waiting for it herself. But for some reason she had the strangest feeling of calm. How could she compare herself to this? She had lived…this girl, however, had not survived the brutal attack.

_Death happens all the time, you have to get used to it…_

Sara shook here head. Death was one thing…murder? You could never get used to murder. What would this girl be doing if she were still alive today? Hanging out with friends, spending time with her family. She was still a kid, fighting to find a way into the world of adults. In general…life was never fair.

"How are you holding up?"

Sara cursed quietly, looking over her shoulder. "The next person who asks me that is losing a limb," she warned.

Greg smiled, coming up next to her. "Well then, I'm glad I'm this person, and not the next person."

She smiled, turning back to her work. "On break?"

"Something like that," Greg shrugged. "Susan called; she's on her way here. Says that we need to talk about something."

"The both of you, or just her?"

"The day we have a normal conversation is the day I retire willingly."

Sara laughed, picking up the last of the photos in a pile. "I have to pick up some results from Mia, do you want to come along?"

"I better," Greg nodded towards her, "I don't want her to lose a limb."

"Ha ha," Sara scoffed at him, "you are priceless."

"Can never be too careful with you," Greg shot back in return, following her out of the room. The page came over the intercom shortly after, causing Greg to go off on his own way. He had a case to get back to, and the sooner he listened to whatever story Susan had, the sooner he could get back to work.

Sara paused, watching him go. She knew that Nick was waiting for her, knew that he was waiting for those results. But at the same time she wanted to go along with Greg. It was the first time she had seen him that night, and more in likely would be his only break. She wondered dimly if he would even mind her tagging along.

Shrugging it off she decided to go; if the conversation appeared private that she could always turn around and leave. If not, then maybe they could catch a quick cup of coffee afterwards; Nick was a fairly patient man after all…

Sara had actually caught up with Greg just as he was nearing the reception area, the newest CSI hanging back intentionally so that she could catch up. Sara didn't need a second invitation. Susan gave them both a warm smile, acknowledging them with a nod.

"What did you want to talk about?" Greg wondered, attempting to get to the point quickly. "You sounded a little worried over the phone."

She shrugged it off, her smile fading some. "There's someone I want you to meet…before I head out of town."

"Okay…" Greg nodded, coming to a stop as a small, cubby face poked out from behind her legs, before quickly hiding once again. Greg raised an eyebrow, meeting Susan's gaze once more.

She was blushing, even as fished the toddle out from behind her. "This is Chase…he just turned four."

"I didn't know you had a son," Greg remarked, a bit awed now.

Susan cleared her throat, one hand still holding onto the small fingers as the boy hid his face in her legs. "Well, that's the thing…he's just not my son…he's ours."

**TBC**


	5. Decisions

**Once again, Major thanks to Jenny. This chapter would not be out without her help, so make sure to drop by and thank her thoroughly, and read her stories while you're at it. They're worth your time :D**

* * *

**Chapter Five: Decisions **

Sara bit her lip, watching as the toddle circled the room once more, pausing near the small fridge. There was no immediate concern; surely he couldn't open it…right? They had been in here all of five minutes, and the child was obsessed with everything in sight.

First it had been the cabinets, the only luck that ran with her was the simple fact that crime lab did not keep much under the counters. Of course, the only thing he ended up getting a hold of was the sugar, that was now currently over the floor. Catherine had been nice enough to try and track down a vacuum.

"Lets not play with that," Sara muttered quietly, getting up quickly when she was proven wrong. Chase let out a short cry, stomping his foot as Sara closed the fridge door, pulling him away.

It had only taken a few seconds for Sara to realize the severity of the situation. Susan and Greg needed to talk, and their son certainly didn't need to be involved in it. Sara cringed at the thought, glancing at the young boy she held in her arms. The boy with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes sat easily in her hold, chewing on his fingers as he glanced around the room.

"You certainly look like Greg," she remarked quietly. "A lot smaller…and quieter…but you do look like him…"

She groaned as Chase suddenly shifted in her arms, wrapping his slobber-covered fingers around her neck as he whined quietly, asking to be put down.

"And you definitely act like him," she shook her head, placing the squirming toddler on the floor. He crawled the first few feet, before pushing himself up to a standing position, heading now for the open door. Sara was quick in catching him once again.

"Vacuum's locked up in the closet, and the cleaning crew won't be in for a few hours yet," Catherine explained tiredly as she came in. "How are you handling things?"

"Well," Sara said with a patient sigh, "I'll tell you one thing, if we all had four year olds, no one would ever need an exercise program."

The blonde laughed, glancing up at her. "Lindsey was the same way at that age."

"Really?" Sara breathed a sigh of relief, "and I thought there was something wrong with me."

Catherine only smiled, watching as the toddler managed to squirm out of the brunette's grasp, trotting around happily now. "Why would you say something like that?"

"I'm not very good with kids," Sara pointed out, collapsing onto the couch. For a brief moment she closed her eyes, before opening them again, remembering that she actually had to watch the small child.

"How do you know that unless you've actually been with them?" Catherine asked, pursing her lips as she continued. "I thought you did well with the last child case we worked. You took care of her what, for five hours without a problem?"

"She was sleeping then," Sara reminded her dully, "All I had to do was to make sure was that she didn't fall off the couch."

"Where's mommie?" Chase asked suddenly, sucking on three of his fingers as he glanced up at the two women.

"She's talking with a friend sweetie," Catherine told the small boy, moving over to pick him up.

He moved away, shaking his head with a shrill protest. "No!"

Catherine held her hands up as she moved away in slight surrender, "Alright, I won't pick you up. It's okay."

Scooting around her Chase moved back to where Sara sat on the couch, tugging on her sleeve as he held his arms out at her. "Pick up?"

Moving reluctantly Sara scooped the toddler up, cradling him in her lap. His tiny arms wrapped around her neck as he rested his head against her chest, closing his eyes with a soft sigh.

Sara looked towards Catherine, who raised an eyebrow, "And you dont think you're good with kids?"

* * *

The conversation was going anything but smoothly. Greg pressed a hand to his face, rubbing his eyes as he drew in a deep breath. He had a headache, and throat was starting to feel raw from all the tense arguing. He hadn't been yelling, not yet, but he was closely approaching that point.

Susan paced in front of him, her arms crossed in front of her chest. "You can't tell me no, you can't back out of this. He's your son, you have to help me, you have to help him."

"You can't just show up one day and dump all of this on me," Greg pointed out, looking up at her. "Five years Susan, five years. And you couldn't take one minute to tell me I had a son, one minute?"

"It's only been four years," she scolded him, "he's only four years old Greg. Besides, I was too busy trying to take care of the both of us. Do you honestly think I had any time to prepare for this?"

"You had nine months to prepare yourself," Greg cried, shifting in his place. "You had nine whole months to tell me, plus the four years that followed. It's close enough to five, don't sit there and play games with me."

"Forget it then," Susan shot back, coming to a stop, "Forget what's happened. Now we need to focus on the future. I can't raise Chase all by myself. I'm barely making ends meet now. Pretty soon here he's going to start school, and that's only to be more money. I tried, I tried taking care of him, but I just can't, not by myself."

"I want a DNA test done," Greg told her bitterly, "Just to make sure he is mine."

"Why?" she wondered, "because you aren't willing to help out a poor defenseless kid unless he belongs to you? Besides, you're the only I've been with Greg…who else could be the father?"

"I just want to make sure," Greg repeated himself quietly.

"It's because you don't believe me," Susan shook her head sadly. "After everything we went through together, do you honestly think I would lie to you about something like this? Or maybe you just don't want to deal with any of this. You want me to do agree to a DNA test, then have all your friends screw with the results so it'll say you're not the father."

"That's crazy," he moved to calm her down, noticing for the first time on how upset she was getting.

"You don't want it to be your problem. Well, I'll tell you what," she huffed, turning on him. "If you refuse to be with him you have to at least help support him, and if you don't I'll sue you, and you know I'll win…"

"Okay," Greg held his hands up, calming her down some. "I believe you," he nodded solemnly, "and I'll help. That doesn't change the fact that you've lied to me this entire time."

His voice changed, becoming quieter now. "I had a son…I had a son this entire time…don't you think that was at least a little important?"

"I didn't want to bring you into it," she whispered, fighting off the tears that were now threatening to fall. "But I'm so worn out, and I just can't keep it up. He needs a father, he deserves to know you. That's why I came out to Vegas…I came to find you. I was going to tell you that first night, but things happened," she nodded out towards the hallway to where Sara had gone.

"Then for a while I wasn't going to say anything…until today I realized I had to."

Greg nodded in understanding as he sunk back against the wall, letting out a small sigh. "What do we do now?"

"We need a place to stay," she muttered quietly, watching him. "Somewhere reasonable, of course."

"Where have you been staying these last few days?" Greg wondered.

"At a Day's Inn, off the strip. I'll find a place of my own when I can, but I wouldn't be able to pay for it on my own…"

"I have a spare room," Greg nodded towards her. "I'm using it as a storage area right now; it should only take me a few days to clean it up."

Susan smiled at him. "That would work wonderfully. You would be right there with us…"

Greg nodded solemnly, forcing a smile across his face. "We would…wouldn't we?"

* * *

Sara watched him as he sat down on the bench, a frown covering her face, her arms resting against her chest. "Let me get this straight," she cleared her throat, closing her eyes, "you're not getting a DNA test done….why?"

"I already know that he's my kid Sara," Greg explained wearily, resting his chin in his hands. "Susan and I dated in my last year in college. She dropped out of school, I went on to graduate. Everything lines up, down to the week even. I may not remember everything, but I do remember when it happened."

"You should still have a DNA test done," Sara argued quietly, taking a seat next to him. Susan and Chase had long ago left, leaving the ex-lab tech to fumble around, a feeble attempt to keep up with his work. Grissom had finally given him an order, more or less, to head on home. Sara had taken the moment to slip into the locker room after him.

"I wanted to," Greg agreed quietly, "but she freaked about it. I'd rather not deal with her when she's upset."

"It could mean she's hiding something," she pointed out, irritated when he shook his head. "You don't know unless you try."

"He's my kid," Greg told her firmly, "Testing would just be pointless."

Sara nodded, frowning still. "You're going to regret it one day," she told him quietly. "That's all I can say to you. I just hope you wise up before it's too late."

She left him there, ignoring his questioning look. She wanted to pity him, but at the same time was far too upset with him to even try. Greg knew that in any case, a DNA test was done, even when both individuals were positive of their relation. Keeping that in mind, how was this any different?

**TBC**


	6. Bonding

**Chapter Six: Bonding **

Two hours; he had been home all of two hours. He had spent forty-five minutes in the shower, a feeble attempt to clear away the stench of decomposing flesh from his body. Fifteen more minutes were spent afterwards, eating quietly in the kitchen. The last hour he spent wondering, worrying about the situation at hand, before crawling into bed.

It felt as though he had just closed his eyes before someone was waking him up. Susan was off to the side, shaking him gently, calling his name. At first Greg was confused as to why the blonde was in his apartment, before everything came flooding back a moment later.

"I'm leaving for that interview now, "she told him, her voice barely above a whisper.

Greg nodded with an incoherent mutter, glancing up to the bedside clock blinking. "It's only six thirty," he replied with a hoarse cough, clearing his throat as he ran a hand through his hair.

"We're meeting for breakfast; I want to make sure I can find the place in time."

"Okay," he answered, rolling back onto his side as he pressed his face against the pillow. He knew how important it was for Susan to get this job. His income alone wouldn't be enough to support all three of them, especially with the pay cut he had taken once moving out into the field.

"Chase is on the couch, he's a late sleeper so you shouldn't have any problems with him…" Susan told him as she made her way to the door.

Greg sat up then, quickly forgetting that he was still tired. "Wait…you're leaving him here? With me?"

She stopped in the doorway, nearly out into the hall now as she nodded. "I can't bring him with me. Besides, the two of you need some bonding time. I'll be back in time for you to get to work."

"What am I supposed to do?"

Susan let out a sigh, wandering back into the room. "Keep an eye on him, make sure he stays out of trouble, feed him when he gets hungry…"

"What does he eat?" Greg wondered briefly.

Susan only frowned, blinking at him. "Food…he's a human child Greg…not a goldfish. He has some clothes in his suitcase at the end of the couch. He can dress himself; just help him pick out a matching outfit."

Greg groaned, letting himself fall back onto the bed. What exactly was he supposed to do with a four year old child all day long?

* * *

She redialed the number again, pressing the cell phone against her ear as she walked down the hallway. Once again voice mail picked up, causing her to scowl into the device. There wasn't much of a point in leaving a message, seeing that she would just make the call again in a few minutes, but she did so anyways. Maybe Sara would get the hint, and call in.

"You find anything Nicky?" Catherine wondered as she entered the garage, taking care to step over the bucket of oil that had been left in the walkway.

The Texan poked his head out from where he sat in the car, both shrugging and tilting his head at the same time. "A few odds and ends, but I don't know if anything's relevant. Sara keeps her car pretty clean, so anything we find is recent. We just don't know if it's before or after her injuries occurred."

She nodded, watching the man work. "Go ahead and bag everything, we'll run it all. If we don't find anything here we'll check her place, but Grissom's made a firm point that we only go there if it's necessary."

"Yeah," Nick agreed quietly. "We don't need to be upsetting her life anymore than it needs to be."

"I can see the point Grissom is making, but if it was anyone else we would have already searched her place, as well as Greg's."

"But it's not just someone else," Nick argued briefly, knowing full well that starting a quarrel with Catherine wasn't the smartest of ideas. "It's personal."

"All the more reason to do a thorough search," she nodded, turning to leave.

"Wait a minute," Nick motioned for her to come back over, pulling a piece of paper from the visor overhead. "Check this out, receipt for the Aureole, for two. That's an expensive restaurant."

Catherine nodded, impressed as she gazed over his shoulder. "Who was she with, I wonder?"

"Greg?" Nick offered, glancing up at her.

"He would have said something," she mused quietly. Her phone went and she answered it, even as she straightened up. "Hey Sara, I need you to come in, we have a 419 and you're the only available body…"

Nick shook his head as she left, his attention turning back to the receipt, checking the date. There was no doubt about it; it was the same night Sara had gone to the hospital.

* * *

"Please?" Greg asked quietly, his chin resting in his hands as he stared at the four year old. "Please eat? You said you wanted it…"

Chase only shook his head quietly, staring down at the food on his plate before pushing it to the side. "I don't wanna…"

"That's the third thing you've order, and you haven't eaten all day…you do eat, don't you?" Greg wondered quickly with a sigh.

The boy only shook his head quickly sticking his tongue out. Rubbing his head Greg reached over for the menu that sat on the seat next to him, laying it flat on the table as he scanned it. The meal would cost him a fortune, a fortune he didn't have, but he couldn't just let the kid go hungry.

"That one," Chase said with a grin, plopping a finger down on one of the items. Greg made a face as he read the boy's decision.

"Fried Oysters?" Greg questioned, looking skeptically at the child. He wasn't sure if the kid could even read, and as the day went on he became more and more convinced that Chase was just pointing fingers. "You probably won't like them," he started to warn, holding his hands up as Chase started to cry.

"Alright…we'll get you the oysters…but you have to eat them."

He smiled happily, holding onto the edge of the chair, swinging his feet back and forth as Greg asked for the order. The waitress shook her head, raising an eyebrow but went to fetch the new platter, leaving the two alone once again.

Greg tried to hide a yawn as he leaned against the table, keeping his eyes on the small boy that was bopping around in his seat. He hadn't been able to fall asleep again, not after Susan left. He was too worried about Chase, worried that the boy would wake up, and then who knew what he would do if Greg continued to sleep on.

"So…" Greg cleared his throat, watching him. "What do you like to do…?"

"I don't know…" Chase answered quietly, staring back at him.

"Do you like…watching tv?"

"I don't know…"

"Do you like playing at parks? We have one around here you can play at for a while. Would you like to do that?"

"I don't know…"

Greg blinked, chewing on his lower lip. "Well…I'm glad that we're able to have such enlightening conversations." He sat for a moment longer, before trying again. "You know…you're not the only one who's a picky eater. You remember Sara?"

Chase watched him for a moment, before nodding his head vigorously. Greg laughed softly, shifting in his chair. "She doesn't like to eat much either. She's a vegetarian, that means she only eats vegetables, and fruits…she doesn't eat anything with meat in it."

"How come," he asked quietly, mimicking Greg's posture as he plopped his elbows on the table, resting his head in his hands.

"Well…she doesn't like eating animals. You see, meat comes from all different animals, chicken from chicken, hamburgers from cows, bacon from pigs…Sara doesn't like eating something that was once alive…"

Chase made a face, pulling back from the table. "Eww…"

"Sorry," Greg apologized, wincing. "That was probably more than you wanted to know huh?"

The boy shook his head at first, stopping only to nod shortly afterwards, earning a chuckle out of Greg. The four year old did have a way with charm, he had to admit. Still smiling he let out a sigh, "Let's just keep this between you and me, okay?"

Chase grinned, sticking out his tongue as he drummed his hands on the seat next to his legs. "Okay…"

Greg smiled, clearing the plates out of the way as the waitress set the new dish down in front of the four year old, making a face despite himself. Just smelling it now, there would be no way he would eat any of it.

"Careful sweetie, their hot," the waitress told him, placing another handful of napkins on the table. Greg thanked her quietly, his attention going back to his son as the boy grabbed one the oysters with his bare hand, taking an almost immediate bite out it.

A second later it was back out of his mouth, now sitting on the plate in puddle of drool. "Eww…"

"I knew you wouldn't like it," Greg said a little remorsefully, adding up the total cost of food so far in his head.

"Are we having fun yet?"

Greg looked up quickly, glancing over his shoulder with a wry smile. "Are you checking up on me?"

"No," Catherine let out a smile, resting one hand on the back of his chair, "Sara and came by to interview the manager of this place, only to find out that he's out to lunch. Go figure huh?"

"What are you feeding him?" Sara wondered briefly, coming up behind Catherine to gaze at the table. "Vegetable soup, stir-fry and fried oysters?"

"Hey," Greg held up his hands defensively, "he's the one who ordered."

"You let a four year old order?" Sara wondered, frowning.

"I've gotta go potty," Chase said quietly, squirming in his seat.

"Want me to take you?" Catherine offered, squatting down so that she was eye level with the boy.

"I want Swara to take me…" he said, sliding out of the seat and walking over to where the brunette stood.

Sara shook her head, even as Chase wrapped his hand around her the edge of her jacket, tugging lightly. "What am I supposed to do?"

"He knows what he's doing;" Catherine reassured her, "just take him there."

She started to protest, only to stop as Chase tugged on her jacket one more time. With a sigh she wrapped her fingers around his small hand, leading him to the back. Catherine let out a smile as she watched them leave, sliding into the chair previously occupied by the boy.

Greg was holding his head in his hands, sighing deeply, not even making eye contact with the blonde. "Tough day?"

"Nightmare," he answered quietly, taking in a breath as he sat up. "I've only slept for a few hours, and this kid's like the energizer bunny. He never stops…it took forty-five minutes to get him dressed this morning, he didn't like anything I picked out, and we couldn't find his left shoe. He lost his jacket somewhere in the grocery store, we spent half an hour looking for that before I finally went out and bought him a new one instead. Now he won't eat, and I don't know why…"

Catherine smiled, trying not to laugh as she watched him. "Have you ever considered trying a peanut butter and jelly sandwich? Some fish sticks, macaroni and cheese?"

Greg shook his head dully in response, causing Catherine to laugh this time. "Do you have any idea what you're doing?"

"None whatsoever," he replied in a whisper, rubbing his neck as he fought off a yawn.

Grabbing a spare napkin Catherine pulled out a pen, jotting down a few items. Greg watched her, raising an eyebrow. "What are you doing…?"

"Making you a shopping list," she replied calmly. "Think of it as a little mother to father advice. These are the essentials that you'll need."

"Carpet cleaner?" Greg frowned, reading what she had written down. "What am I going to use carpet cleaner for?"

"Trust me Greg; sooner or later you will need some. I have the experience."

Greg nodded thoughtfully, sitting up. "You're the expert," he said quietly.

"That I am…"

**TBC**


	7. Learning

**Thanks be to Kegel for the Beta; haven't seen this story for a while now, but it is back as of now. Hope you enjoy, and don't forget to leave a review!**

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Learning**

He would have never fathomed that such a small human would require so much. A blanket, a pillow, a bag of snacks, Jay Jay the Jet Plane toothbrush and matching toothpaste, a tote of toys, a cuddly stuffed bear…did he seriously need all of this stuff?

Greg let out a hurried sigh as he slipped his hand through the last bag, sliding the handle to his elbow as he reached in to free Chase from his booster seat. The boy rubbed his eyes incessantly with the back of one hand, whimpering as he was pulled out the sleep he had been so soundly in. Impressively Greg was able to shuffle the bags in his grasp in order to get a better hold on Chase, the toddler showing no signs of wanting to walk on his own.

Chase instinctively wrapped his hands around Greg's neck as the man let go with one hand to close the door. Only when the hand was returned did he relax, laying his head down against Greg's shoulder. Greg whispered a quiet encouragement to him, moving quickly for the entrance of the lab. It wasn't the boy's fault, he knew, having to be shuffled about like this, but at the moment, there was no other choice. It was either this, or being late to work yet again, and that would not go over so well with Ecklie.

Susan had gotten the job, which was a relief for the both of them. Between the pair they should be able to afford a decent living for Chase. Her hours though were supposed to allow her to get home in time for Greg to make it to work, with a few minutes to spare. The first day it had been the interview party; her new colleagues had taken her out, shown her a bit of the work, and finished up with a dinner that lasted well into the early morning hours of the next day. By then Grissom had told him to not bother coming in.

The second day…she had been slammed with work, showing up nearly two hours late. Greg had gotten a reprimand then. Tonight…at least she had called this time. By then shift started in less than an hour, and the decision had not been a hard one to make. Greg had collected all of the necessities from the spare room, the same room that Susan was currently using, and scooped up a sleeping Chase before heading out the door.

Greg still wasn't sure what they would do about the two of them, meaning himself and Susan. They certainly were no couple, but Greg had offered her a place to stay until they managed to work things out. Living together would be cheaper in the long run for the both of them, but it was tight on space and surely Susan didn't expect Chase to grow up sleeping on the couch. And there was no way Greg was going to move out of his place.

He shook his head, moving through the halls to the break room. Everything was still so new to him, moving at warp speed. A week ago he had been virtually carefree, responsible only for himself; now he was trying to manage a job, a child, and a life. Greg wasn't sure how much longer he could continue on like this.

"Greg? What are you doing?"

He met his supervisor's questioning gaze with a simple shake of his head, walking through the door into the break room. "I didn't have time to find a babysitter; Susan said she'd be by to pick him up when she's off work."

"So, you're using the lab as a daycare now?" Grissom inquired, watching as Greg set Chase down on the couch.

"What would you have me do? Leave him home alone? Thanks, but no, I've seen enough cases that ended poorly because of that. Besides, it was never an issue with Catherine bringing Lindsey here."

"That was different."

Greg nodded, turning to him. "Give me one good reason and I'll take him back home."

He would have argued more, but he was simply too tired. The last few days had been exhausting, and Greg wasn't even sure he had actually slept. Truthfully he would have jumped at the chance of being sent back home, but Grissom only shook his head.

"I'll admit, you got me there. But what will Ecklie say if he hears?"

"What will Ecklie say if I miss work again? Besides…Chase should sleep."

"Why all of the extra stuff then?" Grissom wondered.

Greg turned with a frown, covering Chase up with the blanket he had brought in. "I said 'should', not 'would'."

The truth of it all was simple. If the boy didn't sleep, then he had enough to keep himself occupied for a time. Greg was hopeful that Susan would turn up soon. He couldn't leave the lab until she did, but at the very least he could get some basic work down.

Grissom had already left the room, and Greg paused for a moment, watching the boy sleep soundly, blonde hair in a messy tousled manner, his small fists curled up near his chin. Quietly he reached out, stroking Chase's head before leaning down to kiss him gently. He was precious, Greg would have to admit, when the boy wasn't a burning ball of energy that never died down.

"How's the world of parenthood coming?"

He glanced up as Catherine came into the room, hiding a small smile. "I think I'm losing my mind."

"Why?" She laughed, moving to the end of the couch. She watched Chase sleep for a moment, turning back to him afterwards. "Because he's growing on you?"

Greg let out a little laugh, mostly because he wanted to deny it but knew that he couldn't. "I haven't slept…I've hardly eaten. Susan's gone during the day and all he wants to do is play. At night I'm back here, or being yelled at by someone else…how did you manage with Lindsey?"

She gave him a pitying smile. "When Lindsey was little I had Eddie, and my mother. They helped to take care of her. Then she started going to school. Gave me enough time to get some sleep, especially when my mother picked her up from school."

"Well, Chase isn't old enough for school; still needs another year at least."

"What about preschool?" she suggested, "Lindsey went to this great program; I can get you a brochure. They have great rates, and the plus side, it will help prepare him for school."

"Thanks," Greg smiled at her. "I hadn't thought about that. I'm still trying to figure out how to be a parent."

"Well, it takes years of practicing; and even then you still make mistakes."

Greg nodded, letting out a sigh as he straightened up. "Yeah, but I think I'm taking the crash course. I'm running straight into the ground and I'm just waiting for an explosion."

"Hey," she caught his attention. "If you ever need a day off, I'll take him. Let you get your rest. Why don't I swing by after shift and pick him up? I can give you that brochure at the same time."

"I can't ask you to do that," Greg shook his head.

"Trust me," she laughed, "I don't mind. It's been so long since I've had a little one around that it will actually be nice."

The prospect of a good night's sleep was very appealing he had to admit. And he wouldn't have to worry about Chase either; Catherine had her flaws, but she was a good parent. He could see that reflected in Lindsey. Slowly he nodded, agreeing quietly.

"Just give me a call when you get home and I'll come over. I have to run though; have to catch up with Sara," she gave him a short wave, departing from the room. Greg nodded, though there was no one to see, silently wishing up a silent thanks. He would finally be able to get some sleep.

* * *

She hated this room. Hated it with a passion; but what made it even worse was the fact she was on the wrong side of the table. Catherine had suggested coming here; no, had insisted on it. Nick had vouched for her, offering the lobby instead, but the woman had shot the idea down. Too open, too personal, she claimed.

Sara folded her hands together as Nick sat down opposite of her, flicking the mute button underneath the table. Catherine gave him a cold glare but he matched it, shaking his head. "This is not an interrogation; there's no reason to record what we say."

"Still a case," Catherine reminded him, circling around the room and coming to a stop on the other side of the table. There was a terse silence, but the blonde let out a sigh, holding out the piece of paper in her hands.

"The Aureole, you went there last week. Roughly five hours before you ended up in the hospital. What do you remember?"

Sara reached out tentatively for the paper, her hand shaking as though she was afraid it would snap at her. Cautiously her fingers closed around the thin receipt, pulling it free from the other woman's grasp. She knew the place, could remember it even as her eyes glanced over the order taken. She just couldn't remember that night…

Memories swirled in her mind, fleeting and indistinct, escaping the forceful pull on her mind. So many memories, so many thoughts, all mixing together. Slowly she shook her head, "No…"

Then she paused, the flash of memory so brief that she first thought she had imagined it. But she took a breath, closing her eyes as she pressed harder, digging deeper. She could remember…remember the smell…pasta…she had pasta that night. Her eyes snapped open, checking the receipt again. Lasagna Florentine; yes, she could remember.

"Sara?"

Nick's voice was soft, full of worry and she quickly reassured him, nodding her head. "I can remember…not much, but I know I was there."

"Do you remember who you went with?" Nick continued, encouraging her.

Once again there was a blank, her mind numb, withholding the information. Her eyes slid close, trying to recall the events, trying to play them. The table had been small…she always got a small table, she was the only one that went there after all; no need for a big table…

"No one," she shook her head quickly, opening her eyes. "I didn't go with anyone."

"No one goes to a restaurant like that alone, Sara," Catherine reminded her.

"I do."

"What Catherine meant to say was that there are two orders on the tab," Nick offered. "Someone had to be with you that night, unless you started eating meat again."

Sara glanced down at the receipt again, frowning as she glanced over the order. Pasta O Furnu Catania…it wasn't her order…but she couldn't explain how it got there. The thought chilled her, Sara biting her bottom lip as she shook her head, trying to keep the threatening tears at bay. The last thing she wanted was to break down in front of the other woman, but the knowledge that someone had been with her, that some stranger had done something…

She didn't resist the arms that pulled her into a secure hold, wrapping her arms instead around the Texan that had moved to other side of the table. Quickly she shook her head, closing her eyes as she fell into his hold.

"I can't remember…"

* * *

He was far too tired to deal with this. Greg rubbed his forehead, pounding the heel of his palm against it, as though hopeful to chase away the groggy feeling that was creeping back in. Work had held over, and Greg had stayed; the first time he had worked late since the entire ordeal. Susan, of course, had been none too happy, giving him an earful as he came through the door.

She was already dressed, making herself some coffee as she continued to get ready to leave for the day. Greg could have gone to bed, but instead had chosen to propose the idea of preschool to Susan instead. He figured the woman would be happy; instead she had been furious.

"I can't believe you; it's been only a few days and you already want to ship our son off to some second-rate garbage dump they have a nerve to call a school."

"It's not a garbage dump," he shook his head, sitting down on the couch next to Chase, the boy playing happily with a paper plane Greg had just recently made him. "Catherine praises the school highly, and I hate to burst your bubble but it's not like we can afford a Harvard Tuition for him. Besides, it's just preschool."

"And let me guess," she interrupted, spinning around to face him. "Just preschool will turn into 'just kindergarten' and that will turn into 'just elementary' which will turn into 'just middle school'. Does any of this matter to you or do you not care?"

"I care," Greg cut her off. "But I also care about the fact that I haven't slept. I also care about the fact that I might lose my job soon because I can't work the hours. And I also care that I might lose this place because I can't afford the rent because I'm spending my entire paycheck on a place so that Chase can go build a tower out of plastic blocks."

"It's all about you, isn't it?"

He let out a groan, pressing his head into his hands once more. How was it that everything he said was twisted around to come back at him. "That's not what I'm saying."

"I don't want to send our son off to any school just because some broad you work with suggested it. Chase is doing just fine without it, and on the plus side, we'll save more money this way. Since you're so worried about that."

"Then we need to find a daycare, or a permanent babysitter," Greg pointed out. "I can't keep up with this schedule."

"Then find a different job. It's not healthy for Chase having such an unstable routine. He needs to know that his father is going to be there for him, and not off on some job. Besides, what you do is dangerous. Do you really want your son to be without a father?"

"That's enough," Greg told her firmly. "The job has risks just like any other job does. And no, I am not finding a different job. I worked my ass off to get where I am and I'm not giving it up just because you think it's unstable."

She watched him, barely blinking, "You did not just say that."

For a moment he felt like gloating, a surge of adrenaline coursing through him. He was never much of a confrontational person, so in turn this felt good. But his arrogance died down a moment later as Chase laughed next to him. "Assh."

Greg could have smacked himself, and he was shaking his head slowly. "Oh...don't say that."

The boy giggled, shaking the plane in his hand. "Assh!"

"Congratulations Greg," Susan replied sweetly. "You just taught our son his first colorful word. Well, I'd love to stay and continue this conversation, but I'm late for work. Please try and refrain from widening his vocabulary while I'm gone."

"Right," Greg nodded, watching as she left. He met his son's gaze, shaking his head slowly. "Well, you learned it easily enough, maybe you'll forget just as easy."

"Assh, assh, asshs," he giggled, repeating the word a few more times before falling silent, a grin on his face as he chewed on the paper plane.

"Or maybe I'm being too hopeful," Greg shook his head, moving off the couch as the doorbell rang. At least he hadn't told Susan about Catherine's offer to watch Chase. He was certain she would disapprove of that as well. But honestly, what did she expect him to do?

Catherine had changed clothes, and it even looked as though she had showered, stirring up amusement in Greg. He wondered briefly how she managed to do it all. Then again Lindsey was much older, and didn't need to be kept after as closely as Chase did.

"You going to invite me in?"

"Sorry," Greg laughed sheepishly, moving back to let her in. "I was thinking."

"Saw your wonderful counterpart," Catherine told him as she closed the door behind her, handing him the promised brochure. "Is she a work of art or what?"

"There was a reason why I stopped dating her," Greg reminded her, pausing to glance through the pages.

"All of his things are over there; he likes Jay Jay the Jet Plane, I bought him a few dvd's. Hopefully he'll watch them most of the day and not be too much of a hassle."

"Greg," she caught his arm, laughing at him. "I know what I'm doing. I already have the day planned. He'll be back home before shift, don't worry."

Greg nodded feebly, slight embarrassment working its way through him. Of course she would know. "Sorry."

She said nothing to him in response, turning instead to face the boy still sitting on the couch, bending over to get a better glance. "Are you ready to go have some fun?"

"Assh!"

Greg nearly choked on his own breath, his face darkening as the word flew out of the boy's mouth. It had only been a brief moment, but Greg had completely forgotten about the new word Chase had come to fancy. He expected Catherine to react, expected her to be angry, upset, even raving mad.

Instead there was a look of mild amusement on her face as she straightened up. "I see he's learned his first adult word."

Greg nodded, swallowing slightly. "Yeah, sorry about that."

"Lindsey learned her first one at the age of two and a half."

"Really?"

Catherine nodded, a similar look crossing her face. "It had been a long day and she was fussy, wouldn't cooperate. It came out before I could stop it. They're good at picking up on what you don't want them to know."

"I noticed," Greg agreed, feeling slightly relieved. "Now how do you get them to stop?"

"You can't," she grinned at him, laughing at his alarmed look. "Don't worry. It's just a phase; once he gets it out of his system it'll be all forgotten about. Just don't take him into any churches anytime soon."

"Or out in public," Greg grimaced.

"It'll be okay," she reminded him, gathering the bags off the floor. "Get some rest, we'll be back later."

Greg nodded, thanking her one last time as they headed out the door, Chase chattering his newfound word like a mockingbird, giggling as he followed the woman without question. Part of him was thankful, but there was a nagging feeling deep in the pit of his stomach that he couldn't quite place. That was when he realized exactly what it was.

He was going to miss him.

**TBC**


	8. Rationalization

**Thanks to my beta Kegel for looking this over! Longer chapter this time, enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Rationalization **

Things were getting better slowly with time. The bruises were fading, the abrasions healing, and her moods were changing for the better. Her mind was still shaky, however, the events of the recent past still as indistinct as it had been when everything had first happened. She could remember slight details, but never who, never where, and the only notion of 'when' had come to her from external sources. It was a part of her life that was completely gone, something she feared she would never get back. Yet that was not the worst of it.

The worst part was there was a possibility of this happening again. She didn't remember her attacker, couldn't identify him…or her. Didn't even know the gender of her assailant, or what they had done. Even the events that had panned out afterwards, of how she ended up at Greg's; even that in itself was thoroughly muddled.

But despite her fear she had done her best to move on, trying to forget what had happened. It should have been easy, considering she did not remember, but that seemed to only make matters worse. That was why she preferred work; it kept her mind busy, allowed her the type of release she was seeking. It gave her back her confidence. That was what she needed the most.

Greg had met up with her shortly after, running over the details of their latest case. Sara listened with mild interest, already knowing most of what he was saying. She watched him with slight amusement as he continued to rattle off the notes in the case file. His words came to a stuttering stop as he finally met her gaze, blushing slightly. "What?"

"I read the case file earlier," she told him sweetly, laughing at his puzzled expression.

"Why didn't you stop me then?"

She shrugged, continuing to smile. "You seemed so ambitious. I didn't want to spoil the moment for you."

"Thanks," Greg responded, flopping back on the couch. "But this does leave us with no suspect. We've ruled everyone out."

"Sometimes a case is cold," she told him, taking a seat next to him. "Sometimes we just have to wait for that one missing piece of the puzzle, and everything will pan out then."

That's what she wanted to believe, what she needed to believe. That one single missing piece of information would solve all of her problems. She had a lot of problems at the moment. Sara shook her head, banishing the thoughts away, turning to Greg as he asked his next question.

"So what do we do now?"

"Are we on break or something?" Grissom cut off any chances of her answering, the man entering the break room.

"As a matter of fact, yes," Sara nodded. "Overdue for break actually," she turned to face Greg then. "Do you want to go grab something to eat?"

"Food?" he wondered, then nodded, "I could go for some food. I haven't eaten anything normal for over a week now."

"Define normal," Grissom asked, taking a sip of his freshly poured coffee with a grimace. "You need to get your stuff back in here."

"Lost the coffee with the pay cut," Greg mocked him sweetly. "I could get it back with a raise, you know."

"Really? Well, I'll keep that in mind."

"Means no," Sara whispered over her shoulder, causing him to shrug.

"Can't blame a guy for trying."

She smiled, watching him. "So where do you want to go? I'm not quite sure what place around here serves 'normal' food."

"I have been on a diet of macaroni and cheese and fish sticks, I swear that kid doesn't eat anything else."

"Well, those are considered normal enough around here," Grissom responded.

"I want meat, real meat," he explained, "A steak or a rack of lamb maybe. Baby back ribs…I swear I'm not hungry."

None of that sounded appetizing to Sara, but she forced a smile. She supposed she could put up with it for the time being. "There's a restaurant not far from here that serves stuff like that, but it's pricey."

Greg was shaking his head though, "Nah, let's just hit up the diner. Cheap, good and fast."

"So you two are seriously going off on a break?" Grissom wondered, watching them.

"We have an hour," Greg told him. "Why? Would you like to join us?"

Sara felt her heart skip a beat; she had wanted to spend the time alone with Greg. She needed to talk about all that had happened between them, and it would feel oddly uncomfortable to have her boss around when she did. But her concerns were lessened in the next moment.

"I've never really enjoyed the diner," Grissom confessed, allowing Sara to let out a sigh.

Greg was tapping her shoulder, motioning for her to follow as he helped her off the couch. "The sooner we get going, the sooner we can be there."

"Relax, Greg, the diner isn't going anywhere," she answered with a laugh, growing quiet for a moment shortly after. The question had been burning on her mind, but she wasn't sure how to ask it, or even if she should. Finally she drew in a breath, forcing the uneasy question out into the open.

"You're off Friday, right?"

"That I am," he answered without missing a beat, his buoyant appearance showing that he had not analyzed the question any deeper than what he had first perceived it.

"Did you want to go do something?" Sara continued, clearing her throat quickly. "I mean, I'm off, too, I figured we could spend some time together. If you don't want to, that's okay, I just thought…"

Greg came to a stop, facing her. "Are you asking me out?"

"No," she said quickly, shaking her head.

"Oh," he nodded, smiling a little. "Because if you were, that might change my answer."

"Well, I'm not," she clarified, stammering over her own words. "But let's say theoretically I was. What would you have said then?"

"Theoretically…I would have said yes," Greg told her. "But you're not asking me out, are you?"

"Of course not," she shook her head. "Or maybe I am."

"Which one is it?"

"You're a CSI now, put the evidence together. What does it tell you?"

Greg smiled, leaning in closer to her now. "I say you are. So I say yes, but we would have to make it a double date."

Sara frowned, watching him. "What?"

He was laughing now, pulling away as he continued down the hall. "I'll have Chase with me."

"Oh," she nodded quickly, following after him. She had forgotten about him, she had to admit. Sara still wasn't used to the idea of Greg having a son. "Well, we can do it some other time," she started.

"Why?" Greg wondered, coming to another stop. "I mean, there are things we can do here together."

"Greg, this is Las Vegas. What is there for a kid to do?"

"Well, there's the aquarium at Mandalay Bay, Siegfried and Roy's Secret Garden, the water park. Plus I want to take him by that preschool Catherine mentioned, look into getting him signed up."

"I thought Susan didn't want him going to a preschool," Sara commented.

"Susan's not going to know," Greg told her quietly, heading off once more.

"Wait," Sara called after him, hurrying to catch up with him. "How does that work out? She's his mother, surely she's going to find out?"

"I drop him off after she goes off to work, pick him up before she gets back. I'll doubt she'll notice, it's not like she interrogates the kid about his day. I have to do something though; I can't work all night, then watch him all day."

Sara nodded slowly, understanding his side. "Doesn't sound like too bad of a day, We should get going though," she muttered, checking the time. "We've already wasted fifteen minutes."

"Already gone," he told her with a short smile, leaving her standing there contemplating over what she had just agreed to.

* * *

Catherine pushed a strand of hair from her face as she walked through the door, Nick shortly behind her. She had never eaten here before, but had heard good remarks about the food served, and surely Sara enjoyed it enough to come here several times. Several people were in front of them, all waiting to be seated, the hostess' busy talking to several patrons as once. It would be a moment before they got a chance to speak.

Catherine turned her attention instead to the promoted menu on the sign adorning the entryway, the specials listed, the price being displayed the end. She let out a low whistle, shaking her head. "Cost a fortune to eat here."

"Yeah," Nick agreed quietly. "Some people have a fortune. It's Vegas. You don't come here when you're broke."

"You think Sara actually had the money for something like this?" Catherine asked him. "It seems a bit out of her league."

Nick frowned at her, shaking his head. Apparently it was a touchy subject for him. "Sara's finances aren't any of your concern. I think it's about time you let up on her a bit."

Catherine rolled her eyes in response. Like she had never heard that one before. It wasn't that she had it out for the woman…more of the fact that it was difficult for Catherine to work with women. They reminded her too much of…well herself. Of course, most of her life had revolved around careers of working for or with men, so it was no real surprise.

"Actually," she voiced quietly, "it could have everything to do with it. If Sara couldn't afford this, why would she come here? Somebody else would be paying, which would imply a suspect."

"Come on, Catherine," Nick shook his head. "Why would Sara lie?"

She shook her head despondently, unable to come up with a good answer. There was no reason for Sara to lie. Then again it could be that she didn't remember, but that case in scenario was highly unlikely. The brunette had mentioned being here several times before. Surely she would have remembered if it happened that often.

"We'll be with you in one moment," the waitress spoke suddenly, coming up to the pair. "Just the two of you?"

"Yes," Catherine nodded, pulling out her ID. "The two of us would like to speak with your manager."

The color drained from the lady's face, her gaze switching between the two of them. "This doesn't have anything to do with that body that was found here, does it?"

It was Catherine's turn to look perplexed, the response running through her mind several times. "What body?"

* * *

Dinner had been…difficult. Everything had gone fine at first, the two giving their orders and passing light talk around as they waited for their food. Greg had been following her case quietly; he hadn't been allowed to help, but it didn't stop him from inquiring about all the details. He felt guilt, mostly to the cause that he knew more about what had happened than Sara did. Yet what was worse was the fact he couldn't tell her. Grissom was unhappy enough of the fact that he was keeping tabs on the case; it would only make it worse for the wear if Sara found out the details as well.

Greg still held a strong position that she should know. He would want to know, if it had been him that it had happened to. But Grissom and Ecklie were keeping it professional. If it had been another victim, they wouldn't have said anything, not until they found out what was really going on. It kept the case secure, kept evidence safe. If word of mouth passed along the inside details, especially now, with no suspect leads, it could be devastating. So it was with that concept that Greg agreed to keep quiet.

But Sara hadn't asked for any details, for which he was thankful. Greg wasn't sure what he would have told her if she did. Lying was not one of his best traits, and it seemed he did even worse when facing Sara. Instead she had brought up the issues between them. Greg had never thought there were any, his concern growing as she stuttered over her words. Had he done something to burden her?

"What is it?"

Sara shook her head then, trying to forget what she had said earlier. "It's nothing…"

"Sara?"

There was concern in his voice, and Greg could feel none the different. Something was bothering her, and it was more than just the case. She met his gaze, offering up a small smile, as if to reassure him.

"I was just thinking…about that kiss," she muttered quietly, turning away as she began to blush.

At first it had confused him, and then he remembered. "Oh…"

"I know I don't remember it," she said quickly, hands folding together in her lap as she looked everywhere but his face. "I was just thinking…thinking about it a lot, about why it happened, and I…" she took another breath here, stuttering over her words again, apologizing as though she was trying to right a wrong.

Greg reached across the table then, grasping her hand, the movement causing her to finally look up at him. "Sara, it's alright. You weren't in the right state of mind. It meant nothing, don't worry."

It more or less was the truth, but her expression dampened as she nodded, a nod that almost seemed forced. Part of Greg speculated that she had wanted to hear something different. Like she wanted him to vouch that it did mean something. It had meant something…but he couldn't admit to that. Sara had been hurt, nearly delusional. To him it felt as though he had taken advantage of her, even if she had been the instigator.

The rest of the meal had been eaten in awkward silence, the hunger gone from him even as he took his first bite. Who could eat after something like that? Still he forced down half of his meal, boxing up the rest with a confession that his eyes had been bigger than his stomach. It was probably true in some case, his stomach had been tied in a knot so tight it was probably only a portion of its original size.

It wasn't till after dinner, once they got outside that Sara stopped him, offering a small apology. Greg knew she hadn't meant to cause troubled waters between them, and the stress lessened as he gave his own apology as well. Whatever was said and done was back in the diner, it wouldn't follow them back to the lab.

Work helped with that matter as well. Enveloped in the case once more they began scanning all of the old evidence, one last shot of finding a lead before they were forced to mark it as a cold case. All talk was business now, aside from the stray joke or two that managed to weave its way in. It kept the night going, and before long the first signs of morning were creeping its way in.

Letting out a sigh Greg leaned back in the chair, his eyes drifting to the clock. Normally he would be here for several more hours yet, but lately he had fallen into the easy routine of going home early. So far Ecklie had let it slide with little fuss because Greg spent his spare hours at home keeping up with paperwork. In fact Grissom had commented that Ecklie particularly liked it; the lab had never been kept up so well before in that department. Greg wasn't sure if it was welcoming news or not. Filling out forms while raising a kid wasn't his idea of fun.

"It's that time, isn't it?" Sara asked quietly, seeing the change in his demeanor.

He nodded, giving her a sad smile. "Yeah…I guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow night."

"Why don't I go with you?"

"Where?" he questioned, sitting up in his chair. He hadn't expected the offer, and for a moment it had thrown him off. "Home?"

She nodded, sliding the papers back into the folders. "We could finish reviewing the notes we have, compare some of the documents. Do that instead of filling out paperwork. You said Chase normally sleeps a few hours longer after you get back."

"Yeah," Greg nodded, fighting off a yawn. He didn't want to tell her that was when he had been getting his sleep. Normally he did the paperwork while Chase was awake. "Sure, that sounds good."

"I'll get my things then."

He was left there wondering to what he had just agreed to. Sara was coming over to his place, and while that wasn't as strange as many other endeavors he had encountered, it had been certainly different, mainly because she had been the one asking, as opposed to him. Part of him screamed it was a bad move, both for the case at hand involving Sara and his involvement, but also for what was going on between them. He would not lie; there were feelings for Sara. They had always been there, but they had withdrawn over the years as she hadn't fully returned his outlandish affection.

Yet things were different…he couldn't explain how, and part of him was worried that this wonderful feeling that was growing inside of him would be destroyed if they moved too quickly. Maybe he should call it off, for both of their sakes, and as he was about to agree she had returned. This destroyed any resolution that he had had a moment before.

"My car or yours?" he asked feebly.

"Yours," she said with a laugh. "I can always catch a taxi on my way out. The fare is cheaper with one person, as opposed to two."

He gave a short smile, moving to his feet. That much was true, but he hated the prospect of Sara having to pay for a ride. "I'll just drive you back to the lab when we're done."

"It's not a problem," she convinced him, taking the lead as they moved out of the room.

"Nor is it for me," he reminded her. "Chase and I have to go shopping, it'll be on the way to the store."

"If you're sure."

"I am."

It was final. Sara gave in with a small smile, sliding into the passenger seat. The rest of the drive was fairly quiet. They talked, but it was sparingly and light, more of a jovial atmosphere as they fought the early morning traffic. It made Greg glad to work the hours he did; traffic was always bad in Vegas, a combination of not only the number of drivers, but the number of drivers that had no clue of how to drive in Vegas. He was lucky; most of the idiots were not out this early in the morning.

"The place is kind of a mess," he apologized as they pulled up.

"I've seen it before," she reminded him.

"True, but it's worse now. I still haven't moved all the extra stuff out into storage yet, they're kind of sitting wherever they fit."

She laughed, following him up the stairs. "As long as you have a place to sit, and the bathroom isn't infected with some terminal disease, I think I'm good."

"Bathroom clean, check," he nodded, moving up the last flight of stairs. "Susan took care of that. Place to sit, we might need to negotiate that one."

Her comment came shortly after he had first heard the noise. "Sound's like Chase is already awake."

Greg nodded, grimacing as they drew closer to his door. "Awake and cranky," he commented, the irregular cries muffled behind the door. He could feel some sympathy. The poor kid had been down with a cold the last few days, but Greg was starting to get worn down from the constant routine. "Is it too late to go back to work?"

She was only slightly amused by the joke as Greg worked the key into the lock. As soon as they opened the door they were met with the cries full force, as well as a frazzled Susan, the woman nearly in tears herself. Chase sat on the couch halfway entangled in a blanket, his whimpering cries interrupted by a cough. Susan herself was pacing around the kitchen in circles, muttering to herself in words that could hardly be heard over the ruckus.

"What is going on?"

It was the only thing he could think of at the moment, staring from one to the next. Chase was still crying, his hands fervidly rubbing at his eyes. Susan shook her head as she came up to a stop in front of him. "He was up…all…night…long. He would not shut up, I didn't sleep at all. Do you have any idea how important today is?"

"What's wrong with him?" Greg asked, ignoring her last comment.

"He's just being a brat," she answered, slinging her purse over her arm. "Kids do that sometimes, Greg. Something you learn as being a parent. He wanted to sleep in bed with me, I told him no. He's four, more than old enough to sleep on his own, and the last thing I need to do is catch his cold."

"Alright," he let out a sigh. He had learned very quickly how to pick his own battles. This was not one of them. Angering an already irate woman was not a smart thing to do. That was something he had learned years ago working in the lab. "Just go to work, I'll handle it from here."

Susan's gaze was not on him, however, her eyes focusing on Sara behind him. "Who is she?"

Greg shook his head, grabbing her by the arm and guiding her out the door. Part of him was embarrassed. Sara did not need to be subjected to such treatment, nor should she have to put up with a screaming child. Once outside he closed the door behind him, letting out a breath before he continued.

"She's a co-worker. We are finishing some work here. Why does it matter to you?"

"I don't know," she answered coldly. "We are Chase's parents; I don't want him getting confused to who is who."

"Not everyone has the same parents they were born with," Greg pointed out. "People get divorced, people remarry. Or you have people like us, that went our separate ways."

"What are you trying to tell me?"

"Stop trying to dictate my life," he answered coldly. "He is my son, so I will help him, in every way that I can. But you and I? We chose different lives when we left college. We are two, separate, different individuals. I don't tell you what to do with your time, or your job, or your friends. I'd appreciate it if you did the same."

He expected a rebuttal; Susan was not one to back down to challenges. So he was surprised when she nodded instead.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, "I had this fantasy that we could still be a happy family, even after all these years. I keep forgetting that it's too late for that. I'm also not used to having another input on my son. I've been raising him on my own since he was born. It's just been a bad night, that's all. Things will be better after I've gotten some rest."

Greg let out a sigh. He wanted to believe it, but Susan's nature did not change. Still, it was a small respite, and he would take it. He just had to remember to search for apartments online a bit faster. Things would certainly work out better if they weren't always in each other's hair.

"You should get going," he told her quietly, "You'll be late for work."

"My car's almost on empty."

"Right," he nodded, pulling out his wallet. "I almost forgot."

Susan wouldn't get her first paycheck till the end of this week, and she had used her savings to get both her and Chase to Vegas. Until then, Greg had been footing the bill for the basics. Susan promised to pay him back when she got the chance, but part of him doubted that much would happen. Either their funds would be consumed by everyday living, or the woman would pull a guilt trip, claiming to having to pay for everything for the last four years.

He watched her leave, thankful that she at least had her own car that was already paid for. That cut one bill out the matter at least. Slowly he turned and went back inside ready to face what was in store for him. The good news was the fact that if he could get Chase settled, the boy would sleep for a good portion of the day. That meant not only time for him and Sara to finish their work, but also meant a possibility for Greg to sneak in an afternoon nap.

But all thoughts of that died down upon seeing her face. Sara had moved to comfort Chase while he had been outside, her worried gaze meeting his as he came through the door.

"What?" he asked softly, his voice catching in his throat.

"Greg, he's burning up."

"What?"

Greg was completely unaware that he had asked the same question twice, his mind elsewhere as he strode across the gap and leaned over the back of the couch, running his hand along the sniffling boy's forehead, his hand pulling away from the heat that was radiating there.

"What do we do?"

Sara had asked the question, leaving him completely at loss. What did they do? Greg was no doctor, hardly a father, and had no experience with this sort of thing. This just wasn't a simple bug, or ailment the boy had picked up, his fever a clear indicator of that. Chase continued to cry, short heavy coughs breaking it up as he moved closer to Sara, leaning against her chest.

"Greg?"

"We're taking him to the hospital," he breathed, watching as the boy began to shiver.

**TBC**


End file.
